


Time after Time

by SevereLove51



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 1970s, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, American Civil War, Internalized Homophobia, Lot of death, M/M, Male Slash, Period-Typical Homophobia, Potential Triggers, Reincarnation, Sexual Content, Soulmates, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevereLove51/pseuds/SevereLove51
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is a man that lived a hundred years. He's been through multiple aliases, through multiple wars and partners, but none had stood out like Scott. It was like destiny for them to be soulmates, but time after time he loses him. Time after time, he fails to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on this prompt: http://harrehspeaks.tumblr.com/post/138547376338/imagine-dating-an-immortal-and-finding-a-photo

Logan is a man that lived a hundred years. He's lived through two alias, been through multiple wars, been through multiple partners, met hundreds of different people in his lifetime, but none stood out like Scott Summers. It was like destiny was written it in the star for them to be soulmates. He never believed in destiny, in soulmates or anything that couldn't be explained, but every twenty years or so, he met him. It was like life wanted him to suffer for every time he got close. Life repaid him with death.

He kneeled in the grass, taking a deep breath as his fingers trailed the engraved letters on the granite tombstone.

A deep growl escapes from his throat. "Why did ya had to go and die?"

He was angry with himself to let this happen. He remembers the many incarnations of Scott Summers, the many tragic ways he died. He remembers the first time he met him, the first time he ever had interest in another man.

* * *

**American Civil War: 1862**

**Baltimore, Maryland**

Logan could remember it clearly. 1862, American Civil War, the first war he fought in. Death wasn't unfamiliar to him. His early life has been plagued with death, a few lives he had unfortunately took. The summer air was stale and you could smell the stench of sweat and gunpowder from miles away. Soldiers scurried to the tent of food, trying to get at least a slice of bread and a glass of water. The percussion band were practicing out on the fields, the generals and majors were crowded in a tent together to discuss their next strategy.

The feeling of pity had always haunted him whenever he saw soldiers, knowing damn well they were going to die from gunshots or from vile diseases. His healing factor made him realized how fragile human lives are, some more than others. They had just came back from battle, a couple hundred lives were lost, but he always came back safe. The gunshot holes in his jacket reminded him more of his indestructible state.

Logan scanned the crowd of soldiers looking for Victor. Not being able to find him among the crowd, he decided to retreat back to his tent. Even though the tent was cheap and barely able to keep him warm during the harsh cold nights, it still provided him a nice feeling of comfort and the environment of being alone. That was another burden he faced, not being able to be close to anyone. He never lingered about that too much. There's no family left for him to go back to, he have one person and only needs one person, Victor. The man was practically family to him, both sharing the same father and healing factor.

The sound of drums banging echoed throughout the camp caught his interest as Logan made his way back to his tent. He watched them from afar. He sat down on the cool grass, watching the drummer boys pound the drums, the banging growing louder.

Logan studied their faces, determined faces focused on their task, keeping their eyes on the major conducting them. They were all young, probably all teenagers between the ages of 10 to 17.

He came across a face that stuck out to him. Probably the oldest out of the drummer boys, but looked young enough to be part of the band. He couldn't take his eyes off of him, memorized by his blue eyes, the defined high cheekbones, slender figure. The more he watched the kid, the more interested he got, watching the kid pound the drums and having total focus on the conductor. When the drumming stopped, Logan took the chance to gets off the ground and approached the kid.

The kid isolated himself from the rest of the group, sitting on the ground and tapping the snare drum with his fingernail. As Logan edged closer, he could see the tawny brown hair tucked under his blue cap, the high cheekbones were just hollow cheeks and the kid was more scrawny than he thought he would be.

Logan sat next to the kid, the kid didn't pay any attention to him. He smelt of soap, something that was rare among the other men in the camp.

"I liked your performance," he complemented.

The kid turned his head, wide blue eyes staring at him. "Me?" The kid said in a light whisper. Logan nods. "Oh. Uh, thanks?"

He went back tapping the snare drum, listening to the sound vibrating off the instrument.

"What's ya name, kid?" Logan asked.

"Scott," Scott replied. The tapping continued.

"Last name?"

The tapping stopped. "Summer." He glances over to Logan. His eyes doesn't look up. "Yours, sir?"

"James Howlett," he answered truthfully. The last word sounded foreign to him, it's been awhile since he said his last name. He follows up, "Don't call me 'sir', not a fan of formality."

"Sorry. Can I call you James then?" The kid asked.

Logan shrugged. "Could care less." The kid nods slowly then goes back to tapping the drums. He shows slight interest in the drumming, staring as the small finger tapped the drums. His lips quirk upwards. He finds himself memorized at how attractive the kid is, how he managed to be scrawny, but cute at the same time.

The kid noticed him staring, he shifts a little and there's a small red tint on his pale cheeks.

He averts his eyes to the drum. Maybe bringing up a conversation about it would get the kid to open up a bit.

"Mind playin' me somethin'?"

Scott swallowed still staring at the drums. "Like what?"

"One of yer regulars," Logan suggested.

"I'm not authorized to play unless they tell me to," Scott whispered. He sets the snare drum next to him and gets up. "I-I got to go." He grabs the drums and runs off somewhere.

He doesn't speak to the kid for another three days.

* * *

Logan did see Scott occasionally throughout the camp, usually in his marching band uniform, sticking around with the drum major or alone with his drums. Whenever he had the urge to go after him, Scott disappeared, leaving him with that bitter feeling and stuck doing training exercises. Other times when he wasn't doing their training, he stuck with Victor. Though he loses interest in their conversation as his mind drifted away to something else. Not particularly Scott, but want to be anywhere but here. They could easily leave, even if they might be charged with treason they could easily leave the country. They did it plenty of times before it was no big deal.

He suggested it many times before, though Victor usually insisted on staying where the action is. Even though he had enough of violence and bloodshed for at least another decade, he stayed. They always stick together. They're family. No one else was allowed to join them; not even if they found a partner they were interested because they knew there was no point in falling in love, especially with their mutation. With their healing factor slowing their aging process, when they should be 32 but instead look like they're a few years past 20, they came to a conclusion that any person they come close to would just die before they do, if the two even had the possibility of dying.

Of course the healing factor didn't prevent them from being curious. They had plenty of flings with random women, but none of them stuck. He wondered what would happen if one of them decided to settle down. Out of the two, Logan knew it would him, they both knew that.

"James?" a small voice murmured.

His ears perked up. The voice was familiar. "Hm?" He turned, seeing Scott behind him with a weak smile, wearing his usual marching band uniform. "Oh, it's you. What do ya need, kid?" He's quite amused to see the kid talking to him.

There's a faint red glow on Scott's cheeks. "I just wanted to see you...and I don't have anyone to talk to really."

He's definitely amused that's there a small grin on his face. "Don't ya think yer a bit too young to spend time with a guy my age?" he questioned.

The kid shrugged. "You're not that old. I'm used to spending time with people older than me."

"I'm surprised you remembered me," he commented. Though he's probably the only guy in the whole camp who was part of the army that talked to the kid.

"I don't forget faces, names maybe," Scott said.

"So what do you want?" Logan questioned.

"Just wanted to say hi." Just like that the kid left. He stared after him then glanced over at Victor. He says, "I gotta go." then goes after Scott.

As Logan approached Scott, he sees him sitting on an old log, this time without his drums or his cap. Now having a better look at the kid's hair, he could see that Scott's hair was slicked back with a part on the left. He takes a seat next to the kid.

"You look lonely," Logan commented. The smell of soap that was on the kid when he first met him was now replaced with the smell of sweat and dirt, reminding Logan more of the hot summers.

"So do you," Scott said with a smile. He fiddled with his fingers, biting his lips. "I guess you came to say hi to me?"

"I wanted to accompany you. Ya ain't got any friends here, do ya?" Logan questioned.

Scott shook his head. "Not really. Everyone usually stay to themselves."

'The kid's a loner, just like me' he thought.

"Don't blame them. Why makes friends here when they have the possibility of dying?" He asked. It was a motto he lived by that made his life so much easier and not face the burden of grief.

A thoughtful look crossed Scott's face. "I never thought of it like that. Have you been in any battles?"

"A couple. Around 3, I guess, nuthin' too major."

"Have you killed anyone?"

"Don't think so. Too much smoke to tell." Too many to count. "Have ya ever marched during a battle?"

"No. I want to. It seems fun."

"You wouldn't want to go. It'll be too brutal for a kid like you," Logan responded.

"How bad could it be?"

"Have you ever saw blood? Or saw someone's brain spilled?"

"N-No, but I-"

"You could possibly die," Logan added.

"They don't shoot at drummer boys, they shoot at soldiers," Scott reminded him.

"How old are ya anyway, kid?" He asked.

"Eighteen," Scott answered. "And I know that I'm supposed to be in the military, but I lied and said that I'm 15."

"Playin' safe, huh?" He quipped.

Scott smirked, but it quickly disappeared. "My father wanted me to go since he didn't want to, but..." His mouth set into a hard line as he lowered his head, his expression grim.

"Seems like yer father is a nice guy," Logan said, sarcastically. That brought a smile to the kid's face. "Ya glad you left?"

Scott nodded. "Definitely."

They spend time with each other for the next couple of days. He would usually wait after training exercises until the kid was over with his marching band practice. It became a schedule. Finish training, talk to Victor then wait for Scott. They always sat on the same log, just talk then split when the sun got too low and repeated that pattern for the next two days. Through the two days, he got to know Scott better. He found out Scott was an only child and was expected to have a brother until his mother died from childbirth and that the baby barely lasted a day. The toll of losing both his wife and child, took an affect on the kid's father, causing him to grow bitter and cold. Apparently, the Summer family was well off then most people, they lived in a fairly sized home and Scott was tutored until he was 14, the same age when his mother died. Logan did tell the kid some things about his life, leaving the fact pretty vague at that. He told Scott of being wealthy too, becoming orphaned and staying with Victor for most of his life. It was interesting to hear someone else's story and build a sense of closeness to someone other than Victor.

On the third day, Scott decided to stay in his tent instead. Logan didn't protest against the idea, but the feeling of not being able to control himself being in a secluded area with Scott bothered him. Then the attention of two men sharing the same tent during the night also came into thought. Though the kid was so persistent on the idea that Logan allowed it, but made sure to keep their distance between the two.

The more they spent time with each other, the more their relationship grew. It was intimate. Almost intimate. They were friends, Logan had to remind himself constantly of that whenever he was with Scott. Compared to the two of them, he was better at suppressing his feelings. It was obvious that the kid loved him, Scott's hormone scent would spike up and his eyes would usually lit up every time he was him. Sleeping together in the same tent was tempting. They kept their distance, but was hard as the tent was small and every time they managed to find a way to wake up an inch apart from one another.

One day when Scott was asleep, he discovered that Scott was a heavy sleeper, he found himself studying the kid’s face even more. He touched the kid’s face, feeling how smooth the bisque skin was yet firm. He thumbed his cheeks, feeling how hollow they were then lightly dragged his thumb to the kid's lips; soft, narrow, dry lips parted showing teeth. He brushed his finger over his lips, so light its almost like a butterfly kiss. The corner of Logan's mouth lifted.

Surprisingly, no one was suspicious of their relationship, not even suspicious that two men were sharing the same tent. The nights were cold so it did give him an excuse for sharing a tent with Scott if anyone asked.

The next day, Logan found out that they had one day until they were about to be thrown into a battle, including the marching band. They were headed to Virginia. As usual, he wasn't too worried about his safety. He was standing outside, again chatting up with Victor when the kid came to him, worry written all over his face. Scott tugged at his jacket sleeve, motioning him that he wanted to speak with him in private.

He glanced over at Victor and said, "I gotta go."

There was an annoyed look that crossed Victor's face when he left.

Scott dragged him to the tents area, the kid's grip surprisingly tight. He brings him next to a tree, he could see the worried look on his face.

He hesitated. "Are you going?" he asked, fear heavy in his voice. Logan nodded.

"What about you? Ain't the drummer boys going to?" he questioned. He remembered overhearing one of the generals talk to the conductor before.

"Yes, but what if you die?"

Death. There was no possibility of that ever happening to him. If he got shot or hit by a canon, he would just easily walk it off without a single scratch.

"Guess that's another body added to the death toll." The kid's eyes widen. "Look, don't worry, I ain't gonna die."

"I hope not," he grumbled. His eyes drifted to the ground.

Logan sighed. "If anything do happen to either of us, is there anything you want to do before we leave?"

Scott bit his lips, scratching the back of his head, face flushed. "I haven't had my first kiss yet, so incase something happened to me...I...could you…?"

He nearly laughed, seeing Scott's face getting red. 'He must think he's really slick, huh?'

"Sure," he agreed. Logan looks over his shoulder. There were barely any men near them, but he was going to take precautions. "Not here."

Scott nodded, understanding the situation. He took the kid's hand and guided him to their tent.

Scott's hand is practically trembling as they stood in the center of the tent.

He steps close to the kid, enough that their faces are an inch apart. He caresses the kid's cheek. The kid's face feels hot against his fingers and his lower lips quiver.

"Don't be nervous," he assured him. Scott bites his lips and nods.

Logan lows his head and leans down to kiss the kid. Scott tries his best to copy him, tilting his head upward and closing his eyes shut. He paused for a spilt second, looked at the kid's puckered lips, he smirks before closing his eyes and leans down further for a kiss. Lips brush against each other, slowly he pressed his lips harder against the other's lips. He goes for a better angle and there's an electric shock that goes throughout his body. He feels Scott shiver and Logan breaks off the kiss.

It wasn't perfect, but it made the kid happy.

Scott sucks in a breath and licks his lips. There was a tiny smile on his face. "Be safe," he whispered.

Logan smirked and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and mumbled, "I will."

* * *

They fought. They won. The Confederates retreated. The Union troops returned back to camp, each side suffering from heavy casualties. He's sure he's been shot a couple of times. He remembers the stinging pain in his abdomen and chest and the holes in his jacket proved he had been shot. Victor also got a few bullets in him. It was difficult to keep their healing factor a secret. Some men saw them got shot and instead of crashing to the ground and wait for death to come, they kept going. They killed some Confederates and it took a lot of effort to not let the claws out and slaughter everyone they saw.

As the troop returned back, a crowd of nurses and doctors gathered around them, taking any injured soldiers and bringing them to the medical tents. A nurse offered him some help, noticing the gunshot holes in his jacket. He brushed it off and the nurse focused her attention on another wounded solider.

"They better pay us big time for this," Victor grumbled.

"I doubt it," he responded, causally glancing over his shoulder.

Victor frowned. "I see your friend over there," Victor pointed out with distaste in his voice.

He looked at where Victor was pointing to. Through the crowd, he could see Scott, who's in his marching band uniform, searching for him. "You mean Scott?" he questioned, gazing at the crowd then look back at Victor.

Victor scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Who else?"

With an amused look on his face, he replied, "He'll find me."

"He's really close to ya," Victor mentioned. "Is there something going on with you two?"

"I'm offended, ya think I would associate myself with a child?" He retorted, feeling guilty for belittling Scott.

"If ya desperate enough."

Desperate. He frowned at that word. He resists the urge to make a snide comment instead he glanced back towards the kid as they reached their tent. "I'm going to go meet him."

"Go ahead."

He goes after the kid. Scott had separated himself from the crowd, now searching the tent areas. There was no one else around him, everyone else was still gathered at the medical tents. A small smile crawls onto his face. 'He's really into me, huh?'

He tapped his shoulder. "Hey, kid."

"James!" Scott shouted as his face lit up. He gives him a hug and Logan's a bit taken aback by the sudden action. He pulled away and there's a big smile on his face.

"You're alive! I'm so glad I...." His eyes trailed down and his expression on his face hardens. "There's holes in your jacket and dry blood, what happened?"

Shit. He forgot. "It's nothin', kid, don't worry about it," he said smoothly, trying to play it off. The dry blood was that noticeable, he could easily pass it off as a nose bleed.

"Did you get shot? Are you bleeding? Are you okay?" Scott asked frantically.

"Yes, I'm fine, calm down."

"James?" he questioned, his eyes looked at him desperately.

"I said nothin' happened, leave it alone."

"But-" Logan cuts him off with a kiss. Not as exhilarating as he wanted it to be, but it kept Scott calm.

"Just don't worry about it," Logan assured him.

Scott opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded, lips pressed to a thin line.

"If that's what you say."

* * *

It seems afterwards that their relationship was established, but what did that make them? It wasn't normal, he never heard of two men being in a relationship or getting married. Did that make them lovers? A couple? Was there even a term for two men who loved each other?

Wrapping his arms around the kid, he rested his chin on top of his head. He takes a whiff of the kid's scent. He didn't smell of soap anymore, instead smelled more like him. He smelt of pine trees, sweat and his own unique musk.

"You know this is wrong," Scott started.

"I know," he replied ,"but I enjoy this, ya know?"

"What if we get caught?" Scott questioned.

That thought always burned his mind. Whatever consequences that would happen, wouldn't affect him. "What'll they do? Kill us?"

"We won't be able to get married," Scott added.

"Married? We just started and you're talking about marriage?" He scoffed at the thought of that. Marriage was never going to be part of his agenda, not for a long time. The kid unwraps himself from Logan's arms.

"Look, I didn't mean to upset ya, I'm just-"

The kid didn't look at him. "They're taking photographs over there. Do you want to..." his voice trailed off, staring at the ground.

"Sure," Logan agreed.

Scott's lips curved into a smile.

They go for a photo. They held hands. A flash. It was done.

"I heard the photos come out nicely," Scott said.

"I'm sure they do," Logan replied.

* * *

A week afterwards and they were in the tent, laying down together on the ground, arms wrapped around one another. Scott unwrapped himself from Logan's grasp and sat up. He looked at the ground, his face red and shifting nervously.

"I-I'm pretty sure we've been together for three months now, but I want to give you something." There's a sheepish grin on Scott's face.

"Oh really?" Logan's enlightened. "What is it?"

"Here." He handed him a photo frame. It was an oval shaped frame that was the size of his palm with the golden metal craved with a leaf design. Under the glass, it was the photo they took a week ago. They were both in their uniforms, him in his union uniform and Scott in his marching band outfit, hands locked together.

"Cute," he commented.

"You like it?" Scott asked, a bit surprised.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Scott smiled. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

He stared at the photo. Three months. They've been together for three months and the kid was still head over heels in love with him. It's touching, this kid managed to find something about him likable enough to want to be with him. Rubbing his thumb against the glass, he smirked. The smirk soon fade away as he started thinking. He puts the photo in his pocket and sighed.

Noticing the troubled look on his lover's face, he frowned. "Something wrong?" Scott asked.

"Can I trust ya with somethin', kid?" Logan asked.

Scott tilted his head. "What is it?"

"Sure you can keep a secret?"

He nodded with a confident look on his face. "Definitely!"

"Don't freak out, but remember those gunshot holes in my jacket?" Scott nodded. Logan looked down at his fist, clenching and unclenching it. He drew out a shaky breath and looked at his partner. "Promise ya won't freak out?"

"I won't."

He clenches his fist and takes a deep breath before letting the bone claws tear from his skin. He gritted his teeth as a fiery pain shot throughout his body. The pain simmered as his healing factor kicked in and healed the tears. He glanced back over at Scott. Scott's mouth gaped open and eyes widen in shock. They didn't say anything. The kid stared at his fist then slowly walks up to him.

"Are those...claws?" Scott questioned.

He swallowed. "Yeah." He waits to see what the kid does next.

"How-"

"I don't know how this happen to me, but it started when I was 8," Logan explained.

"How does this explain the gunshot holes in your jacket?"

"Healing factor. It's another ability I have."

Scott paused. "Are you immortal?" he asked, feeling embarrassed to say that.

"I don't know. I know my healing factor it affects my aging," Logan added.

"So you can die?" he asked with a low voice.

Logan shrugged. He never gave that much thought. He got shot plenty of times, stabbed, even got shot execution style, but it always healed. "Probably, but it would take a lot to kill me."

"Have you ever been close to dying?"

"No."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Victor does."

"Is he like you?" Logan nodded. "With the claws and everything?" Scott's eyes averted to the ground. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought I could trust ya, plus ya got the right to know since I scared ya last time."

"That is true," Scott agreed. "Does it hurt when they come out?"

"Yeah, I try not to use it often," Logan explained.

Scott nodded. He seems to be swallowing this new information alright. There was no look of horror on his face, not even a look of hatred just curiosity and amazement.

"Thank you for telling me this," Scott said. "Can I touch it?"

"Go ahead."

The kid preceded the claws with caution.

He dragged his finger across the bone, pressing his finger against the joints then dragging his finger to the tip. His finger then strayed to the underside of the blade. He pulls his hand away.

"Interesting," Scott commented.

"I'm surprised, most people will run away in terror," Logan said.

Scott shrugged. "People did say I'm a peculiar child."

"Make sense. You decided to be in a relationship with me."

"And I don't regret that," he said and gives Logan a quick kiss on the cheek.

Logan had to admit he never expected for Scott to be understanding and not scared of him. He never tried to show other partners his powers, knowing the consequences of that happening. Though there were two incidents of him accidentally letting his claws out.

The first time ended up with him and Victor being run out of town by angry mobs. The second involved an ex boyfriend with a knife over a woman. Instead of dying like any normal human would after being stabbed in the stomach, he healed. Having these abilities were both a curse and a blessing.

He grips the oval frame in his hands and sighed. 'The kid loves you, he won't freak out.' He looks over at the sleeping young boy and a grin crawls onto his face. He puts the frame back into his pocket. 'Yeah, he definitely loves me.'

* * *

The next day they're holding hands together, strolling around the camp. A few soldiers glared, but no one bothered to say anything.

"May I ask, do you have a home to go to?" Scott asked.

Logan looks at him. "Why?"

"I was thinking maybe after the war is over, we could...live together?" Scott suggested, a blush crossed his face.

"Don't ya want to live with your old man?" Logan questioned.

"Like I said before, he'd not expecting me to come back alive," Scott pointed out.

"Well yer father is an asshole," Logan said. Scott grinned. "It's true."

"I know." A pause. "You're brother is looking for you," he mentioned.

From the distance, he could see Victor coming towards him.

"James," Victor began. He stopped as his eyes fell on Scott. He scowled.

"Want somethin', Victor?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you in private," he said.

Logan nodded, he lets go of Scott's hand and goes with Victor behind a tree.

"What is it?" Logan asked impatiently.

"We should leave," Victor tells him.

He raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

"People are gettin' suspicious of us."

"They know?"

"Some are suspectin'," Victor said. He glances over at the two soldiers that walked past them. "We should leave before they find out."

Logan glanced over at Scott. "No, not yet."

Victor frowned. "Why?"

"We should wait till the war is over. People would get more suspicious if we left unexpectedly," Logan explained.

Glaring at Scott, Victor snarled, "Fine." Before walking away, he turns to Logan and says, "Whatever it is, he ain't worth it."

'Ain't worth it my ass' Logan thought bitterly. 'Leaving, huh?' That thought never came to him for awhile. The favor of leaving had diminished as he entered a relationship with Scott. It would be safer to leave after the war was finished, if the war was close to ending like some soldiers said. Either way, leaving would be hard on Scott. He couldn't just dump the kid or randomly leave at night without Scott knowing what happened to Logan, telling Scott would also leave him heartbroken then there's a possibility Scott'll be interrogated for their abandonment. Maybe, when they leave he could take Scott with them. Maybe...

He goes back to Scott, who's sitting on a tree stump picking at the bark with his fingernail.

"He doesn't like me," Scott whispered, eyes fixed on the loose bark.

"Don't dwell on it, he's...like that," Logan replied. He sits on the grass next to Scott.

He stops picking at he bark. "He looks like he wants to hurt me," Scott added.

"He won't hurt you, trust me."

Scott nodded cautiously. "I'll take your word for it," he said.

* * *

The Union has occupied a town and the soldiers set up camp nearby. Soldiers went in and out of town to view the captured town. It wasn't destroyed completely, just the outskirts of it. Most of the soldiers came looking for prostitutes, some came for food and gifts the town had offered.

Scott sat up on the sleeping bag, fumbling with his snare drum and stripped to his under clothing. It's been awhile since he fumbled with his drums. The conductor gave the drummer boys a break after one got killed in the crossfire. The death of a fellow drummer boy struck him harder than the deaths of any of the soldiers killed in battle. It reminded him that he did have a possibility of getting killed in war, even if he's on the sidelines.

He sees James enter the tent. Setting the drums to the side, he smiled. "Hey."

"I'm gonna go into town, I'll be back," James tell him. Scott frowned, but mumbled a "okay."

James kisses him on the forehead before leaving the tent.

Scott sighed and laid on the sleeping bag, waiting for James to return. His cheeks turned pink as a smile grew on his face as him remembered the kiss they'd recently shared. He felt warm inside and a bit giggly thinking about the moments they shared together. 'God I sound like a little girl'. He lets out a ecstatic breath, snuggling under the thin cotton sheet. The sheet smelled of pine trees and tobacco. It was rarely a thing for James to smoke, but he did enjoy the occasional cigars. He'll buy him a cigar if he ever decides to go to the town.

He shuts his eyes, settling to take a nap instead of waiting. He hears something rustle against the tent. He opened his eyes.

"James?" He murmured in a soft tone.

"You wish, kid."

He slowly stands up and draws in a sharp breath. "W-Who is it?"

The opening of the tent rustled a bit before the man entered in. Victor entered the tent with a threatening look on his face and his nails extended out.

"H-Hello, sir-" He greeted the dark brown haired man. Something about the man's appearance was menacing. His jaws tighten, feeling uncertainty slowly wash over him. He didn't trust this man, even if he's his half-brother. He remembers the word 'half'.

The man narrowed his eyes, a low growl emits from his lips. "Stay away from him," the man warned.

He looked at him warily, slowing walking back until his back hit the wall of the tent. He swallowed nervously as his eyes darted back to his extended sharp nails. "I don't understand what you mean."

"You know what I mean," he snarled. Victor walks towards him, a nasty look crossing his face.

"I don't," he began. He paused. "Is it about James?"

"Stay away from him. Don't talk to him anymore." His voice was low and dangerous. He could feel his body tremble, but he tried to stay bold.

"You can't tell me what to do, you're not a superior officer," he snapped, glaring at the menacing man towering over him.

Victor clenched his fist. 'He can't kill you, James would be mad if he did'. "If you know what's best for ya, you'll listen."

Scott swallowed. "We love each other, you can't stop that," he declared, this time narrowing his eyes.

Something in the man twitched. A wicked grin plastered on his face. "Really?"

Scott nodded. "Yes."

"Then I'll give you a warning."

"What are you-"

Hands lunched forward and his back was pressed against the man's body. His head snapped back, nails dug into his scalp and eyes on the ceiling of the tent. His heart hammered against his chest. He opened his mouth to protest, but a shrill scream came out instead. The sheer pain blinds his vision with red. He shook violently, the grip on his scalp keeping him steady. He cried out, bringing his hands to his face then everything went numb.

Suddenly his body erupted in pain, like he was being set aflame, the burning pain rushed to his head. His head pounded, ears ringing, blood clouded his vision. He tried to wrap his mind around the situation, trying to realize what just happened to him. The burning pain invaded his whole body and he doubled over. Scott opened his mouth, ready to scream, but his screams were muffled as Victor clasped his hand over his mouth.

"Scream and ya gonna lose both yer eyes."

It was enough to shut him up. Victor throws Scott to the ground, sending a shock of pain throughout his body. He realizes what happened. His eyes, his eyes had been slashed, leaving a gash in his face where cool air invaded. He laid there, his hand covering his torn eye, the overwhelming throbbing pain causing him to grow dizzy and weak. The agonizing pain was eating him alive. The muffled screams and the pathetic sobs he lets out doesn't soothe him.

Victor forces him up, a gleeful smile on his face, proud for what torture he put Scott through. Scott could barely stand, his body swaying and he tried his best to suck in any signs of pain and kept his hand covering his eye. Pulling Scott closer to him, Victor's towering over him and their faces are an inch away from each other that Scott could feel his breath on his face. Victor has a firm grip on Scott's shirt collar and his gleeful smile turned into a scowl.

"Don't tell anyone, if anyone asked, you got a shrapnel shot into your eye, got it?" he snarled.

Scott nodded his head frantically. Victor lets him go. Scott pulls his hand away to see the blood dripping from his hang and a trail of warm fresh blood down his arm. Small droplets of blood stained the green grass. He stares at the man's blood covered fingernails and a wave of fear washes over him. The throbbing pain soon becomes unbearable and he covers his eye again. He mustered out a small whimper before running out of the tent mindlessly.

Wind ran pass his face, his left eye tearing up. He bumped into a couple of soldiers, getting pushed back in return and his body constantly screaming in pain. His mind reminded him over and over to find a doctor. His eye darted everywhere. Where was the medical tent? Should he call out for someone? His throat ached. He remembered Victor's threat, and the feeling of fear took over once more. From his left eye, his vision blur. He cursed himself mentally. His legs were beginning to grow weak. He crashed into someone and nearly cried from the pain of the impact.

The soldier in front of him, looks back and glared at him. "What wrong with you, boy?" the blond soldier sneered. Scott stared. He swallowed and pulled his hand away from his wound. He lets the wound speak for itself.

The soldier's eyes widen and his skin goes pale. A few soldiers stopped and stared at him with horror written on their faces. Scott lets out a sharp breath.

"Someone help him!" the soldier called. Everything after that was a blur. Scott could feel people running towards him and the burning pain from where his right eye used to be. His vision blur and the last thing he remembered seeing is his palm covered in blood.

* * *

Scott woke up from his unconscious state and met with a throbbing pain on the right side of his face. He grimaced at the pain and sucked in a sharp breath. Everything hurt; his face, his body, more importantly his eye. The memories of the past events hit him. The wicked smile on Victor's face and the sight of his blood covered palm haunted his mind. Victor's threat now lingered in his mind. James! He didn't know what to say to him when he returned.

He groaned as he forced himself to sit up.

"Scott?"

He cursed himself mentally and tried his best to open his eye. He saw James sitting next to him, a worried look on his face. He sat up and the blood rushed to his face and he began to feel dizzy.

"James," he acknowledged him.

"What happened?" James asked, voice low.

"I don't know. I think a piece of shrapnel hit my eye," he lied, his voice coarse and shaky. God, was that really his voice? He swallowed painfully, his throat parch.

"Doesn't look like shrapnel that did that," James said with a frown.

"How would you know?" It came out harsher than he expected.

"Who did this?"

"No one."

"I know someone hurt you. You can tell me." He looks at him worriedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scott said, feeling guilt welling up inside him.

James' expression hardened. "Fine, then don't tell me."

"I can't tell you. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you," he whispered.

James frowned. "Why not?"

"A superior officer said that," Scott mumbled, his eyes not meeting the other man.

"Which one?" James asked.

"Can't say," Scott answered

"Did he threaten you?"

'Yes'

"No, it's...I can't talk to you, if I do I'll get in trouble," Scott explained. He hates having to lie like this. He knows that James knows he's lying.

"I'm guessing ya don't want to get in trouble." Scott doesn't say anything. He stares at him for a minute. He lets out a deep breath and nods. "I'll just leave." James gets up from chair and starts to walk away.

He wanted to yell out for him. He wanted him to stay. He wanted tell him the truth, but he kept his mouth shut. He watch with shame as James left the tent.

* * *

It's been a week since he last talked to the kid. The conversation they had left him feeling bitter, frustrated and overall disappointed. He knew the kid was still in the medical tent as he took a peek a day ago. Sooner or later, Scott will be released meaning sooner or later the kid had to talk to him. He decides to wait.

He stayed with Victor through most of the time. Slowly, he's been reconsidering leaving. With them still taking camp near a town, it be easier to leave. They could walk into town, blend in with the civilians and leave. They still had another two weeks before the troops advance to another town.

"When are we plannin' on leavin'?" Logan asked Victor. The two are sitting across from each other, a table between and a red and black checkered board set on the table,

Victor looks at him surprised. "Why, ya askin'? Thought ya wanted to wait til the war was over."

Logan shrugged, moving his piece. "The war will take too long, better leave before people get too suspicious."

"What? You and the drummer boy not talkin'?" Victor questioned, moving his piece to the next red square.

"Don't want to talk about it," he grumbled. He takes one of Victor's pieces and replaced the empty square with his own.

"He's just a drummer boy, shouldn't get upset over him," Victor told him.

"He said a superior officer told him not to."

"Maybe he's thought he was distracting ya."

Logan paused. "Yeah, maybe."

"Poor thing, I heard his eye had been ripped out of his socket.," Victor commented.

Logan remembered seeing the right side of Scott's face bandaged up and blood seeping in. Remembering the pain look of the kid's face was unsettling to him. "It's something like that."

"You visited him?" Victor questioned, moving his piece.

Logan nodded. "Yeah. They bandage him up, but he's still in pain."

"I'm guessin' he didn't talk to ya while you were there?"

He scoffed. "Barely."

For a moment he saw Victor grin.

* * *

It was another week of not speaking to Scott. Whenever they made eye contact, Scott looked away and ran off somewhere. Slowly it stopped bothering him though there was always disappointment that followed. Logan came to the conclusion that it was over. Their relationship have ended. There was no point crying over it. Still, part of him wanted to grab Scott and scold him for ignoring him then the other part told him to let go and don't bother wasting energy on the kid. The plan to leave was still on hold. They had one more week before the troops leave then they wouldn't know how long the battle would take or where they'll camp next. He still wanted to wait for Scott, to see if he'll actually talk to Logan before leaving. If he did, he'll wait till the war is over; if not, they're gone somewhere this week.

He laid on the ground, staring up at the tent's ceiling. He takes out the photo from his pocket and stared at it. Him and Scott, holding hands, a small smile on Scott's face. Disappointment crossed Logan's face.

He puts the photo back in his pocket and sighed. 'Stupid kid.'

He sat up as he hears footsteps approach the tent then the smell of someone familiar causes him to frown.

"What are you doin' here?" he questioned, sounding bitter as the kid entered the tent.

Through the dark, Scott stood there, a sad look on his face. He bit his lip. "I'm cold. I...I miss you," he whispered. His body was trembling and he could hear Scott's teeth chatter.

He rolled his eyes. "Can't stand not being able to talk to me?"

"I'm sor-"

"Stop. Just, come here." He motioned for him to come to him. The kid laid next to him. He puts one arm around Scott and slid the other under the pillow. Scott snuggled against him.

"I wanted to talk to you, but he was watching and-"

"Who was watching?"

"I-I can't say."

They laid in silence. Logan drags his fingers through Scott's hair. A few strands stuck to the bandage covering his right eye. He takes a whiff of the kid's scent. The smell of him had faded away, now replaced with the scent of blood and medical supplies. He could still hear the chattering of Scott's teeth and the young man was shivering under Logan's grasp. The night was fairly warm compared to the cold nights the troops have experienced. Logan unwrap his arm around Scott and pulled the covers over. Still, Scott shivered.

He laid his hand on Scott's cheek. "Yer freezin'," he stated.

"I know."

"Yer skin is cold. Are ya sick?"

"I'm just cold. It's always cold at night."

'Yeah, but ya never were shivering at night' Logan thought. He changes the subject. "Is yer eye doin' well?"

"It still hurts like hell. Sometimes it's okay sometimes it starts throbbing and it hurts all over again," Scott explained.

"Ya still never told me who did it."

"This other drummer boy was messing with a rifle, he shot it at something and it hit my eye."

Logan knew it was a lie, but he played along. "He could of killed ya. Why didn't ya tell me before?"

"Because you might get mad at him and-" he stopped as he looked at Logan then looked away.

"I wouldn't hurt him, if that's what ya think," Logan told him.

He sat up. He bit his lips and a pained expression crossed his face. He drew in a sharp breath. "I think I'm going to go to the medical tent, I don't feel so..."

"I can take ya," Logan told him.

"N-No, stay. I-I c-can do it m-myself," he told him. He got up and left.

* * *

Logan doesn't see the kid for another day. The conversation with Scott left him with a mixture of different emotions. Anger for lying about who had hurt him, for lying straight to his face, anger for not letting Logan help him, anger for being so goddamn secretive with him. More importantly he was worried. It was obvious Scott was sick, he was cold when the night was warm and then broke into a sweat later on. His body went from cold to ridiculously hot. He thought of the many sickness that other soldiers had died from.

He pushes the negative thought away and goes to one of the medical tents. He asks the nurse about him. She tells him he won't make it.

"He got an infection. We think he has malaria, I'm sorry, but he's going to die," she tells him.

Infection. Going to die? No.

Logan hesitates. "Can I see him?"

"You might catch it too, I'm not-" the nurse began, then seeing the worried look on his face, "Come with me then."

She motioned for Logan to follow her. She takes him to another tent, about three tents away from the one they were at. She brought him past a couple of wounded soldiers before finally getting to Scott's bed. The kid's asleep and there's a damp white towel placed on his forehead.

"He's still alive, but he won't have long," the nurse said. She removes the damp towel from Scott's forehead and set it on the table next to the bed.

Logan nodded. "I know."

"Are you his friend?" she asked.

He draws in a sharp breath. "Yeah."

"My condolences," she said, before leaving Logan and Scott alone.

He pulls a wooden stool from under the table and sits down. He stares at him. The light from the candle shining on his face, showed the drastic changes to his health. His skin was paler, cheeks hollower than before and he looked frail. How could he missed this last night?

He hesitates. "Scott?"

Scott's eye opened to a crinkled slit then looks at Logan. "James?" he whispered, his voice low and brittle. His lips quivered as he went on, "I-I think I got an infection in m-my eye." His eye begins to well up. "I-I'm sorry..."

"Don't," Logan started.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you, I'm sorry for lying to you, I'm sorry-"

"Stop, just stop!" he snapped. He felt his throat burn and the bile rising.

"James, I don't want to die," Scott whimpered, his voice cracking. "I don't want to die." His face written with pain and hopelessness.

"Yer not gonna die. Ya gonna get through this, alright?" He wanted to believe that, but he knew the inevitable was going to happen. 'I'm so fucking sorry, Scott, I shouldn't have left ya alone.'

"James," he began. "Can you hold me?" Logan nods. He pushes himself closer to the bed and pulls the kid into a embrace. He puts him in a comfortable position, one arm around his waist and the other tangled in his hair. He listened to the heavy breathing and the slowing heartbeat; dragging his fingers through his hair, the smell of blood and oncoming death radiated off of him. He doesn't want this to end, he wants to be able to hold him again. "James?"

"Yeah?"

Scott shifts in his arms and looks at Logan with a weak smile. "I-I love you..."

He froze then kisses him on the forehead and mumbles, "Love ya too, kiddo."

Still smiling, Scott closed his eye until the faint smile disappeared. Logan draws in a faint smile that disappears as quickly as it came. He speaks to Scott with a soft gentle voice, the whispering kind soothing words in his ear as he waits. He waits for death to come. It was a slow agonizing wait. There was a struggle to breathe, a desperate need to grasp for air then the breathing went steady. It gone slower and slower and slower before finally, the breathing stops. Then there's nothing, and all life leaves the body he's holding.

Mustering the little energy he had, he rests the Scott's lifeless body back on the bed. He doesn't look back, too much pain wrapped in the memories of Scott. He leaves the medical tent without looking back. He leaves the camp without looking back.

All his life Logan's been familiar with far too many deaths; his father's, close friends, fellow soldiers at war, but none had affected him like this. It was a tug on his heart, it left him emotional and numb. Maybe if he hadn't left town, the kid wouldn't have gotten hurt. He should of stayed in the tent with him then everything would be fine. No one could've hurt him, he couldn't had died from his wound. He would still be alive if he had stayed. At times like this, he wish didn't have the healing factor. Living with sorrow and grief ate him alive, a fate worse than death. At times like this, death is the easy way out, but all he can do is run.

He decides to head north. New York, maybe? 'Yeah...that's good. Too many people, easy to fall into the crowd'. Gripping the photo in his pocket, he thinks of Scott and how Scott might have wanted to go to New York with him. 'Don't worry, kid, I won't forget ya. I won't.' He'll make sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ello, I am back with a new chapter. I never gave up on this story, but I was dealing with writer's block lately and kept pushing this chapter back until I could continue. So yeah, here I am. I hope be able to publish the next chapter faster, but I also be working on my other story here. I have a lot of Scogan fanfics I want to write, but I should probably finish this one first. (Probably will post them).

New York City. The living city was a fresh start for him. There was no wars, no remembrance of his past to bother him. Even though the city was rampant with crime, there was still plenty there for him to enjoy.

After leaving the Union camp, he first resided at a small town in New Jersey. He discarded his clothes in the woods and stole a civilian's clothes that was left hanging to dry. He never forget the photo. He stayed there a couple of weeks, made sure to keep to himself and not draw too much attention. He stayed at multiple towns in New Jersey and in a span of 30 years he had lived in 5 towns. Finally he made it to New York.  For the next three decades, New York has been kind to him. He made life manageable for him. He earned half of his money through buying stocks and investments while the other half came from the money he salvage as a child. With all that, he created a wealthy lifestyle for himself. Every decade he would change his name, now going by the name James Thomas.  Once his stay in Brooklyn was overdue, he settled to a luxurious penthouse in Manhattan. Through all those years, he never forgot that photo.

* * *

Logan walked out of a jazz club with a brunette young woman, arms linked around the other. She wore a knee length blue chic dress, a cream patterned coat that was a inch longer than her dress. Her short brown curled hair reached down to her shoulder and a cream colored cloche hat to complete her outfit.

Audrey, that was her name. She was the same as the other women he dated, beautiful, rich, no care in the world; but she had her own thing that made her unique. He was a sucker for strong, intelligent women.

"My god, for a negro, that Bessie Smith is a great singer," Audrey mused. "Shall we go again, James?"

Logan chuckled. "Sure."

She smiled brightly then brushed her thick brown curl away from her cheeks. He liked how bright her smile was. "I had a great time with you."

"That's good," he said, planting a kiss on the side of her forehead.

"Do you mind walking me to the car?" She questioned.

He shook his head. "Not at all."

Being the gentleman he is, he walked the lady to her car.

"Sure ya don't want to come in?" She questioned in a seductive tone, giving him a wink.

He smirked at the suggestive insinuation. "Sorry, got stuff to do at home," he told her.

Audrey frowned and went to the back seat. She peered from the window and smiled.  "See you next week," Audrey said. He nodded and closed the door behind her. The driver gave Logan a slight nod and a smile before driving off.

He watched as the car drove away and waited a few minutes before going on his way back home. He strolled around the area, watching as people walked by, entering and existing different stores.  It's interesting how this country evolved. It almost felt like yesterday since he had been fighting in the Civil War. The sound of gunfire and explosions still rang throughout his head and memories of the war were still prominent in his dreams.  It's been decades since he last saw Victor. He wasn't sure where he is right now. They were always close, stuck close together like bread and butter, though after the war, everything felt different.

He tears away from his thoughts as he realized he was the only one walking in the neighborhood. Taking a sharp breath, he shove both hands in his pocket and strolled down the street.

"Where's my money, Summers?" a man angrily spat. Logan froze and looked around.

Summers?

"I told you, I'll pay you tomorrow," a voice answered measly.

That voice...

"You said that yesterday!" the man snapped and he could hear another punch.

"I got robbed, okay? It's not my fault they stole from me!" the man, apparently named Summers, retorted back. Another punch and he hears a thud.

He hid behind the corner of a building and peered from the corner. A faded lamppost shined on the four men in the alley. Three of the men surrounded the victim on the floor, two at his side trying to pick him up and one in the center delivering the punches.

"And ya stole from me! Funny how that goes right, Summers?" the man in the center, who looked like the ringleader of this dispute.

Summers looks up at the ringleader, lips busted and a sickening discolored bruise growing on his left cheek. "Don't kill me," he whimpers.

The ringleader laughs. "If you don't give me my money, I'm gonna." He pulls out the gun from his holster, causing the two henchmen to step aside. He aims it at Summers. "Now, where's my money?"

Summers spat out blood. "Don't...have it-"

_'Click'._

"Wanna repeat that?" the ringleader asked,  "Look, if ya don't give me my money right now, I'm gonna kill ya!"

 _'They're gonna kill him.'_ He hesitates for a split second, eyes laid on the young man hunched against the brick wall, struggling to stand up. Something about the young man felt similar. The high cheekbones, slim body frame, the bright blue eyes and the tawny brown hair struck him with familiarity. He pushes himself off the wall and forces himself to protect the man.

Summers held out his hand. "Wait-"

He should've just ignore the situation, should've just kept walking, but right now he's probably the only thing preventing Summers from getting shot.

"What? You have a buddy now?" the plump ringleader snarked. "Get out of the way!"

"Back off," Logan growled.

"I'm not afraid to shoot ya," the ringleader stated.

"He says he doesn't have your money, cut him some slack," Logan told him. From behind, he could hear the heavy breathing coming from the young man along with him struggling to stand on his feet.

The ringleader scoffed. "Yeah, he said that, two weeks ago!"

He makes sure that Summers' is hidden completely behind him incase the ringleader decides to get trigger happy.

"How much did he owe you?" Logan asked.

"Ya can't pay for it."

He frowned. "How much?"

"One thousand," the man answered, a smirk now on his face. "Now, do ya have that type of money?"

He glances over at Summers. "How much do you have?"

Summers looks at him, guilt written on his face. "A hundred."

_'Great, this kid doesn't have any money.'_

He looks back at the ringleader. "What if I pay half of the debt and pay the other half tomorrow?" Logan suggested.

"I needed that money today, I already gave him two weeks to repay me," the ringleader explained, the anger in his voice rising.

"I pay 600, the rest I'll pay tomorrow," Logan said.

The ringleader frowned.

"800."

"700."

"That's 300 dollars off from 1000."

"750, then I'll pay the rest tomorrow."

The man hesitates for a moment, shrugs and put his gun back in his jacket pocket. Eyes watching the gun, Logan steps aside from Summer, but enough that Logan's body is hiding the left side of his body. "Fine, pay the whole debt tomorrow. Meet me at the Birdland Club." He glared at Summers. "Ya lucky him came and save ya, boy. Don't ever take my money again, ya here?"

Summers shoots him a glare and forces himself to smile. "I promise."

The ringleader frowned and motioned his head to his other minions to follow him out.

Once Logan made sure they were out of sight and far enough from the alley, he turns to Summers. His lips is spilt open and there's a bruise on his left cheek, another bruise forming near his right eye and blood was pouring from his nose. Summers looks at him a bit sheepishly, his clothes were ruffled up from the beatings and some blood splattered onto his gray shirt.

"Thanks," Summers whispered, his head lowered and eyes not meeting Logan's.

"You should go to the hospital," Logan said.

Summers bit his lip. "Why did you do that?" Summers asked.

"Do what?"

"Offered to pay my debt. You didn't have to."

"Ya rather be dead instead?" Logan suggested. 'Because I could of just let ya died' he thought.

Summers paused and looked up at him. "I'll pay you back-"

Logan scoffed. "Ya barely had any to pay that guy, what makes you think you could pay me back?"

"I can work for you. I could clean your house and-"

Logan frowned. "How old are you?"

"20."

"Shouldn't you be out partyin' or somethin'?"

"Not everyone has money," Summers says quietly. He glances over at Logan. "Unlike you."

"Where are yer parents?" Logan asks.

"I don't have any."   _'Great, an orphan'._

"Do you have a place to stay?"

Summers shook his head. "Not really." He slouched against the brick wall and placed a hand on the left side of his face. A pained expression followed and he muttered, "Can you take me to the hospital?"

"Ya better off lettin' me clean ya up," Logan told him.

Summers' eyes shot up at Logan. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you a doctor?"

Logan shrugged. "Something like that."

"Sorry, but I don't trust strangers," Summers said, narrowing his eyes.

"Ya not gonna trust a guy who saved yer life?"

"You're a good humanitarian, but how do I know you won't kill me?"

"If I wanted ya dead I would have let them shoot ya." It was only luck that he found the man. If he had decided to go with Audrey, this man would be lying on the floor with a bullet in his chest and slowly bleeding out. He would have died alone, no one to comfort him and no one finding his body until days later.

"That would've been the better option," Summers suggested.

"What? You wanted them to kill ya?"

Summers shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Sounds like it," Logan agreed. The flickering light that shone across Summers face reminded him of the brutal beating he got earlier. His cheek showed a more sickening purple color, his nose had stopped bleeding with dried blood still there and both his lips and right eye was now swollen.  "So ya want me to patch you up or go to a hospital? I gotta say, my place is closer than the hospital."

"I'll go," he said, hesitantly.

"Good choice," Logan told him and turned around to begin walking.

"Oh, what's your name?" the kid asked.

He stops for a split second. "James."

"I'm Scott."

Scott Summers. Scott fucking Summers. He wonders if it was a coincidence and his mind automatically thought of the Civil War.

He starts to walk, too flabbergasted to say anything.

"Wait up-"

"Learn to walk faster then," Logan sneered, picking up his pace.

 

* * *

 

He leads the kid to his place. It was a long walk, taking about 30 minutes to get there. During the walk there, Scott had attempted to create small talk with Logan. He asks a couple of questions before it quickly went back to silence.

Outside was quiet. The neighborhood was always quiet, something he came to liked, but today silence wasn't something he wanted to be surrounded with. He secretly wishes for Scott to start talking again.

"You live here?" Scott questioned, noticing Logan had stopped at an apartment building.

He doesn't answer back. The doorman nodded at Logan and opened the silver door for them.

"Guests, Mr. Thomas?" the doorman said with a smile.

"Surprisingly, yes," Logan answered, nodding back at the doorman.

Logan guided Scott to the elevator and brought the man to his apartment.

It was a big apartment that took the whole floor. It was nicely decorated with various paintings and the dark red furnitures went well with the mid green walls. The dining room and the living room is separated by a partial wall. The apartment also came with two bedrooms, a master and a guest, both decorated the same.

Scott looked at the room in astonishment. "It's...amazing."

Logan shrugged, tossing the keys on to the coffee table. "It's nothing special."

"I like it."

"Good for you," he said, rolling his eyes.

A young dark skinned woman comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her white apron. She smiles as she sees Logan and Scott.

"You have guests this late, Mr. Thomas?" the woman questioned.

He shot Logan a confused look. "You have a maid?" He asked.

"She have a name."

"Vera," she greeted, holding out her hand and giving him a warm smile.

He took her hand and shook it. "Scott."

"Should I make something?" She proposed, turning her attention to Logan.

"I'll just have water," Scott answered.

"It is no trouble at all, I can fix you something."

"I'll pass."

"It be better if you just get some sleep instead. I can serve him," Logan told her.

She opened her mouth to reject, but nodded instead and walked to her room. Once Vera left the room, he headed to the kitchen.

"Do you like tea?"

Scott shrugged. "A little." He walked around the living room, gathering familiar with his surrounding.

"Alright."

He fills the kettle up with fire then turns the stove on. He disappears to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit then went back to the living room to tend to Scott's wounds. He cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his face and applied ointment to the bruises.

Vera had came and set the tea cups on the table, bringing along an ice pack for Scott. "Drink up," she said then disappeared to another room.

Once he had finished tending to Scott's wounds, he handed the man a cup then took one for himself.

He takes a sip from the cup, savoring the taste in his mouth before setting it down on the coffee table. Seating back against the couch, he watches the man next to him with mild interest.

"You're going to drink that?" he questioned, noticing it's been minutes since Scott haven't touched the cup.

"It's hot," Scott replied lamely.

"It's usually is," Logan retorted. "You never had tea before, have you?"

A blush crosses Scott's face. "No."

He sighed into his cup and takes another sip from the tea before setting it down on the table. He watched as Scott did the same, take a sip from his cup and set it down on the table then began to stare at him, almost as if looking to Logan to know what to do next.

"Are we gonna sit here and pretend nothing had happened?" Logan asked, reminding the both of them about the events earlier.

"Oh." He look down to his lap then looked back up. "I didn't think you would be interested."

"I interfered between you and some guy about to kill you. I'm also the one paying for your debt, I think I'm very interested to see how this all started," Logan chided.

"Sorry."

He sighed, crossed his left leg over the other and rested his arm on the armrest. "Why did you owe them money? First off, how did you know him?"

"I worked at a club. He and his friends usually play some type of card game. Somehow he knew I had access to wine barrels," Scott explained.

 _'Great a smuggler._ ' "And how did you have access to that?"

"I used to date this girl who's father used to own a wine factory. They were able to hide most of their alcohol in their basement without anyone finding out. He said he'll pay me extra if I provided wine for him and I did. He gave me a pay in advance to provide for a party, but-"

"Let me guess, yer girlfriend found out, got mad and broke up with you?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"He paid you a thousand dollars in advance?" He nodded again. "He got mad when ya told him, didn't he?"

"Yes. He said if I didn't pay him back, he would kill me."

"What did you do with that thousand dollars anyway?"

"When Elizabeth found out, she took the money and kicked me out of her house."

"You lived with her?" Scott nodded.  "So you're homeless."

"Not for long, but right now, yes, I am."

"Well until you manage to find a place , you can stay here if ya want."

"Thank you."

He gets up and walks to the closet, pulls out a couple of pillows and blankets then tosses it on the couch.

"There, you can sleep on the couch."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever," Logan grumbled. He flicks the light off and disappears into his room.

He undresses himself to put on more comfortable night clothes and laid on the bed in unpleasant silence. He hated silence. Silence had always lead to thinking and from there, he thinks about the past. He have been indulged in it for so long, filled with terrible memories of his past. His jaw clenched when his mind drifted back to a grim memory. Scott Summer, the drummer boy from the Civil War camp. A teenage boy that soon became a lover. Was it even love? Or the fact he was surrounded by mostly men and desperately needed someone  to keep him company.

But Scott was different, he felt different than his other relationships. It was his first relationship and his second love to Rose.  Pushing that thought away, he shuts his eyes and tried to let sleep take over. It took him a hour until he had finally slept.

* * *

When Logan woke up, he headed to the living room. He found Vera and Scott chatting with one another, both holding a cup of tea.

"Morning, Mr. Thomas, is there anything I can get you?" Vera asked, setting down her cup.

"No, I'll fix something for myself," he replied.

Logan made one glance over to Scott, who in returned stared at him back, then decided to head to the kitchen.

Just looking at Scott swept him with a various range of emotions. He cursed himself for thinking about the drummer boy and even comparing him to this Scott. It wasn't a coincidence that the two looked eerily the same. He had always heard religion nonsense about reincarnation, maybe this was an example?

"Morning," Scott greeted as he slipped his mug into the sink. Logan nearly dropped his own mug at the sudden voice. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"It's nothing special," Logan replied.

"I like your apartment."

He shrugged off the compliment and whispered a bitter 'thank you' to the young man. He poured himself some hot water and put the teabag in his mug.

Finding the man standing behind him, Logan asked, "Want anything to eat?"

Scott shook his head. "No, I already ate, I, uh...sorry," he stammered. A red blush crosses the young man's face and Logan almost found it adorable. Almost. His cheek was still swollen and there's a purplish color around his right eye from yesterday.

Tossing the bag in the trash, Logan took a sip from his mug then decided it was time to get to business.

"How much money did you have left to pay the guy?" he asked.

"A hundred," Scott said, sheepishly. "Do you want it?"

"Keep it. I'll just pay the whole thing."

"Y-You don't have to. I can give you what I have and-"

"A thousand dollars ain't gonna hurt me," Logan told him.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Logan grumbled into his mug.

Having no work today, Logan was stuck in the apartment for the most part. He barely spoke to Scott throughout the day, only exchanging glances and answering whatever questions Scott had. All he focused on for the most part was delivering the money. After that he wasn't sure what would go one from there. He was torn on whether or not to let Scott stay or throw him out.

When the time came near, he packed the money in a envelope, dressed himself in something semi-formal and left the apartment. He took his car and drove to the address Scott had provided him. It took awhile for him to get there, no more than about 40 minutes. He parks his car a street away from the club then walked his way there.

There a giant neon sign flashed the club's name and had two silhouettes of a man and woman, each with a wine glass in their hands. Logan took a deep breath and prepared himself mentally before going inside.

Cigar smoke immediately invaded his senses. The lights in the club were dim and there were no more than 10 patrons in the club.

"Do you need something?" a young worker asked.

"Got any mobsters around here?" Logan questioned.

Young man frowned. "We don't have any of those."

Logan waved the envelope at the young man. "Ya sure? Because I have some business to do with them."

The young man's frowned deepen before sighing. "In the back," he told him, pointing to the the black double doors.

"Thank you." Logan turned to the door and entered the room. The floor was carpeted and the walls were white, in the center of the room hanged a mini chandler. Five men sat at a round table, each holding a couple of cards in their hands and each have a stack of money next to them.

He tossed the envelope onto the poker table.

"Scott Summers," Logan said. The men glared at him. One set his cards down and raised his eyebrow. He looked similar to the guy from yesterday in the alley.

"Who?"

"Scott Summers, the man you beat up," Logan clarified, a snarled twisting his lips.

"I beat up a lotta men, ya gotta be more specific." "Wait, is it the that blue eye-kid with brown hair?" he questioned.

Logan nodded. "Yeah, that one. There's his money."

"Why didn't he come?"

"He's still recovering."

The man grinned. "Probably gave him a serious beating, huh? Then again, I only give it to men who deserves it." The other men laughed with him, earning a glare from Logan and causing his blood to boil.

Right when the man started to reach out for the envelope, Logan stopped him.

The man frowned and snarled. "The hell ya doin'?"

"Why do you need this?" Logan questioned, narrowing his eyes and tightening the grip he had on the man's hand.

"What?"

"Why were you asking for Scott?" Logan asked.

"None of your damn business," he told him. He glances over to the other men around the table, all with shift eyes and hands hovering to their pockets.

"Why do you all have guns then?" Then the realization hits him. "This is a set up."

"Smart ain't ya?" The man yanked his hand away and there's a twisted smile on his face. "I was planning for Scout to come. I can't afford him snitchin' on me if the cops decide to come wonderin' where all this liquor is comin' from. You understand don't ya?"

"You know, if you value yer life, you wouldn't shoot me," Logan warned.

The man let out a hearty chuckle before pulling the trigger. Just like that Logan crumpled to the floor. The man grinned and tossed his gun onto the table.

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about," he said as he turned to his men.

A slight hiss reverberated off the walls. It was quick and painless. Bodies drop and blood soaked into the navy blue carpet. He froze and eyed the scene he caused. Mouths gaped and eyes filled with terror all belonged to the fallen men. He then eyed the stack of money that rested underneath the slumped over body on the table.

Retracting his claws with a hiss, he shrugged. _'Wouldn't hurt to take some.'_

* * *

 Scott had been waiting for James to return. He noticed that the man's absence had been gone longer than he expected. Fear slowly seeped into the young man as he began to fear for the worse.

"James been gone for awhile, do you think he's okay?" Scott asked Vera.

Vera shrugged. "I believe so. Mr. Thomas knows how to take care of himself."

"Are you sure?" Scott questioned.

Vera nodded and smiled. "I know so. If he wasn't able to, would you think he would rescue ya?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted, earning a soft laugh from Vera.

"You be surprised what he could do. He's a lot stronger than he seems," Vera assured him.

Scott didn't know what to say, just simply nodded and tried to focus his attention to something else. He borrowed a book from James' book shelf, but the words never grabbed his attention. His thoughts would drift in and out, focusing on the book then would wander to James.

 _'I'm too concerned about him'_ he thought. He set the book down on the coffee table and sighed. _'Come on Summers, you've only known this man for a day. You can't refer to him as a friend, yet.'_

He sat there for awhile, pondering whether or not he should go after him. There was a chance that he could get himself killed, but he was willing enough to go sacrifice himself after he selfishly brought James into his business.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when James came through the door. Scott had half-expected for it to be a cop instead.  He had noticed the rather change of clothes, but he pushed that aside.

"James!" Scott nearly cried out and rushed towards the man.

James pushed a bag to him.

Scott froze. "What is this?"

"Let's just say it's your paycheck."

Scott tilted his head. "My what?" Scott took the bag from James and peaked into the bag. His mouth gaped and his eyes grew wide. "H-How....there's so much."

"Three thousand."

Scott fumbled with his words. This was obviously stolen gangster money, he recalled seeing the stacks of money on their weekly poker game.

"Did you...steal this?" he questioned, biting his lips to keep himself calm.

"Don't think too deeply about it, alright?" James assured him. He staggered his way to the couch and slumped down on it.

Scott hesitates then turns to James. "James, you didn't have to..." he trailed off as his eyes went back to the bag of money.

"Yes, I did. They were planning on killing you."

A coverup. He cursed himself mentally for not excepting that one day will off him to prevent any police from leading them to the mob.

Scott sets the bag on the coffee table. "Then why did you take it?" Scott asked.

"Figured you would want a new life, you can get away from here, possibly move west," James suggested.

"T-Thank you," he whispered. He sits down on the opposite couch then glances over to James. "Is this a sign for me to leave?"

James shrugged. "That's your decision," he said. There was a moment of silence between the two men before James added, "But I wouldn't mind you staying, be nice to have another body around here."

Scott pondered about it for a minute. He barely knew the man yet he was interested to stay. "Then I'll stay."

"Alright, but if you're staying, you need to help Vera around," James told him.

"That's easy."

"Good." James got up and started to head to his room. He stopped and looked over to Scott. "Also you're gonna be sleeping on the couch."

"I'm fine with that."

When James left, Scott was left with his thoughts. He wondered why James changed clothes or how he was able to steal the money without getting killed. _'No, don't think that. He wouldn't kill anyone'_ then again he wasn't sure. After an hour stuck in his thoughts, slumber finally came.

* * *

 It's been a month since Scott have stayed with him. Scott generally stayed to himself most of the time and never tried to get too into Logan's business. It also been a month since that incident and Scott never bothered to interrogate him further on that subject. Scott simply hid the money someplace and haven't touched it since. Logan had secretly hoped that no one had trace the murders to Scott. He did overhear some talks from the police and haven't found a murder weapon. Talks later died down and he figured the cops had ruled their deaths as undetermined.

Scott had done a lot of work in the house. He aided Vera with cleaning and did his best to cook, most which didn't turn out well. The relationship between him and Scott still felt awkward. Neither men engaged in a long conversations with one another. Plenty of times the conversation would die out, but he could tell Scott yearned for some type of conversation with him.

"You're going out?" Scott asked when Logan prepared himself to leave. Audrey had invited Logan to dinner.

"Yeah," is all he said.

"Oh."

_Oh?_

"If you need anything, ask Vera, she'll give ya anything," Logan told him.

"I know," Scott said flatly.

Not knowing what else to say, he left the apartment.

He's could sense how nervous Scott get whenever he approached him and the spike of anticipation whenever Logan spoke to him.

Though despite their awkward relationship, Logan learned a lot more about Scott. In return, Scott learned a lot more about Logan. Logan learned Scott is an orphan and had a younger sister. He also learned that Scott's parents were recent immigrants and Scott was born in America along with his sister.  They managed to get by in New York, but after his parents had past, everything went straight to hell afterwards. Scott didn't go to deeply into the situation.

Logan provided Scott with a mix of lies and truths. Logan told Scott about being born into a wealthy family, being sick most of the time and also being an orphan himself. He did mention Victor and told him that they were close, but soon separated which was mostly true. Though he knew that the two would eventually find each other again. Logan left most of his past a mystery to Scott, not wanting to reopen old traumatic wounds.

For the most part, they kept their distance from one another. Logan wanted to keep it like that, to avoid falling for another man again. He wished to save himself from another heartbreak, but he knew damn well that nothing can stop him from developing feelings for Scott.

Finding Audrey among the crowd wasn't difficult as Logan arrived to the dining hall. He picked up the sweet plum scent from her and followed it. When Logan found her, she was surrounded by other female friends, none that Logan bother to know their names. Audrey's eyes met his and her face lit up and smile flashes on her face. Logan forces himself to smile back. He felt a sense of dread tug at his heart as he approached Audrey.

He gave her a peck on the cheek and she kissed him back with a kiss on his lips.

"Hello sweetheart," Logan greeted.

"Hello."

Logan nodded at Audrey's friends. "Ladies."

"James," they all acknowledged in unison.

The dinner went on from there. Logan barely talked throughout the whole thing, just nodded whenever someone said something or laugh whenever it was appropriate. His mind drifted to somewhere else, thinking about a certain man back home.

"Is there something wrong, James?" Audrey asked, noticing her fiancé's silence.

He shook his head. "No, just have a lot on my mind," he replied.

"If you need to tell me anything, you can," Audrey offered, she hook her arm under his and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm good," Logan said.

Audrey pulled away then changed the subject. "You can't believe how many of my friends were fawning over that ring you gave me."

"Oh really?" he feigning interest. Each day, every time he spoke with Audrey, he noticed he lost more and more interest in communicating with her. That little spark between them was dwindling.

Audrey nodded with a smile. "So many. I can't believe we're getting married soon!"

He nodded.

"James. You haven't been yourself lately, are you sure you're okay?" Audrey asked.

"Yes, I've...been feeling sick," he lied.

"Have you now?" Audrey questioned. She shook her head and looked at him with a worried look. "I can get my maid to help you feel better."

"I'll get over it," he responded.

"You know, my late uncle had pneumonia and said that exact same thing!" Audrey said.

"I'm not your uncle," he pointed out.

Audrey frowned. "Still, it be unfortunate if you died."

"How so?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow in interest.

"There's champagne!" she cried. She beckoned the waiter towards her. She took two and handed one to Logan. "Maybe this can help you?"

Logan lightly pushed Audrey's hand away. "I'll pass," Logan said, flatly.

"But, you never turn down champagne, especially alcohol!" Audrey claimed. The guests at the table glanced over to the two.

"Excuse me," he muttered under his breath. He quickly excused himself from the table and headed to the bathroom.

The sickness in his stomach had settled down when he entered the bathroom. Logan found himself the only person in the bathroom and lets out a prolonged sigh. He washed his face then looked at the mirror feeling quite disgusted with himself.

He shouldn't be thinking about someone else, especially impure thoughts about a man when he have Audrey. He shouldn't be living this false life he placed himself in. Logan stared at his hands that rested on the porcelain sink. For the first time in months, he lets the bone claws tear through his knuckles, sending a scathing pain that he haven't felt in months throughout his body. It was a weird sort of relief to him to see his claws again. He examined the claws, watching as the ripped skin was desperately trying to grow back.

The claws retracted back and the feeling of disgust washed over him once again. His mutations always reminded him he can never be what he wished he was, a civilized man living a normal life. His love for another man gave him an increase dosage of self-disgust.

_'Goddamn it, Scott! Why did you have to appear in my life now?'_

Scott appearing in his life made him second-guess his love for Audrey. Though he wondered if there was any love for Audrey at all or that he was in desperate need not to be lonely. Scott was different, just like the other Scott. He was painfully in love with the other Scott and falling in love with this Scott. Logan had always discarded his feelings, never tried to show it, especially to Scott, who also clearly shared that same feelings as him.

Logan lets out a shaky sigh, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind. He washed the blood off his knuckles and headed out of the bathroom.

Returning back to the dinner table, no one greeted him. He sat there in silence, barely listening to other conversations. Audrey lightly tapped his hand.

"James, you are obviously not feeling well," Audrey whispered. "Why not just return to your apartment?"

Logan nodded. "I agree." He figured distancing himself from a massive group of people will help better clear his head.

Audrey smiled, her lips twisting into a devious smirk and a flash of lust in her eyes. They said their goodbyes to the group and left the dinning hall. Audrey eagerly pulled Logan down the hallway, leading him to the parking and to her car.  Logan didn't flinch when Audrey kissed him.

* * *

Scott had desperately waiting for James to come back. He's been gone for two hours and he didn't have a clue where he gone to. Scott feared that Figgis' men had came after James, probably figured out that Scott is taking refuge in James' apartment. He constantly paced back and forth in the living room, wondering if James was safe. Vera tried to calm Scott down, offering him a cup of tea.

"Scott, Mr. Thomas is going to be okay, he just went out to one of his weekly dinners," Vera assured him.  He didn't believe it. James didn't seem the type of person to associate himself with others.

Scott took a sip from his cup of tea, which was now barely warm. Setting the cup down on the coffee table, the tea did help a bit with his agitation. He sat on the couch, his foot anxiously tapping. _'Come on, James, where are you?'_

When the doorknob began to shake, Scott shot up from the couch and felt a mixture of nervousness and happiness build in his chest. His heart drop when he the door open. James was perfectly okay, no blood on his face, the only red mark being the lipstick that woman that was kissing him left on his face.

"James?" Scott said, his voice sounding both surprised and heartbroken.

The woman pushed herself away from James, her cheeks red and tried to straighten the creases on her dress. She tilted her head when she looked at Scott.

"Oh? Who is this? A friend?" she questioned.

"Scott-"

"Summers. Scott Summers," Scott cut James off, now feeling irritated by the woman's presence.

The woman nodded and glanced over to James. "Oh. I didn't know you gained a new friend, James."

"Yes, your boyfriend is nice," saying the word 'boyfriend' was painful to him. "He allowed me to stay in his apartment."

She wrapped her arms around James' arm, adding more salt to Scott's wound.

"Hm. I didn't know you take in charity cases," the woman said.

'The hell does that mean?'

"I think I should bring you home," James quickly offered.

The woman looked at him surprised then pouted. "Already?" James nodded and the woman frowned before shrugging. "Then again, I am feeling tired." She looked at Scott and gave him a feigned smile. "Good night, Scott." She also said 'goodnight' to Vera, who had entered the living room, but instead called her 'Hera'.

Scott whispered back a "goodnight" and felt relieved when the two left the apartment then sadness took over.

"Charity case?" Scott questioned.

"She said the same exact thing to me," Vera said, frowning.

"I don't like her."

"But he does," Vera told him. "Don't worry, most of his relationships don't last longer than two years."

"How long has it been?"

"A year."

Scott frowned at that. He was ashamed of himself for being jealous.

A couple of minutes later and James comes back, red lipstick still coated on his face. Scott didn't say anything. He wanted to wait until James said something first. James didn't say anything at first, he simply tossed his keys to the side.

"I'm sorry about her," James apologized, not making eye contact with Scott.

Scott shrugged it off. "I heard worse." He looked at James curiously, he couldn't keep his eyes off the lipstick markings. "So how was it?"

"How's what?"

"Wherever you went."

James shrugged. "Nothing different."

"Oh." Silence. "What was it?"

"Dinner."

"Oh." He mentally scold himself for not believing Vera.

There was another moment of silence and it killed Scott. He hated those awkward silence between the two, he hated how awkward he get whenever he was alone with James.

"Do you have anything to wear?" James asked suddenly, catching Scott's attention. "Anything fancy?"

Scott shook his head. "Um...I don't think so. Why?"

James shrugged. "The night's still young," he said which was true as it was only 9:20. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"I doubt it will fit," Scott replied, but felt delighted by the man's suggestion.

"Then I'll buy you another one," James offered.

Scott smiled. "Fine by me."

* * *

 "These are the parties you go to?" Scott asked, looking at awe at the massive crowd in the room.

"Yes. I don't really like them, too many people, though I don't mind the drinking," Logan explained. He never enjoyed big crowds, it felt like he was suffocating among them.

"It's...huge," was all Scott could say.

"Do you like it?" Logan asked, looking to Scott.

Scott shrugged. "We haven't done anything yet."

Logan takes two glasses from the passing waiter and hands one to Scott. Puzzlement crossed the man's face as he stared at the fancy liquid in his hand.

"What?" Never had a drink before?" He questioned.

Scott shook his head, embarrassment crosses his face. "No."

"You dated a girl who's father owned a winery and you never had a drink before?"

Scott shrugged. "Never bothered."

"Then go ahead," he told him, bringing up Scott's glass up to his lips. He hesitates, looking up at Logan, searching for some type of support before drinking down the champagne in one gulp.

"Taste sweet," he replied with a satisfied grin.

He grinned back. "Good." He holds out his hand. "Shall we?"

Scott nodded eagerly and took his hand. "Yes."

The night dawned on from there and it was filled with bright lights, alcohol and dancing. It was wonderful. It was better than all the other parties he's been to and surprisingly was able to enjoy himself. Maybe Scott's presence is what made this party enjoyable for him. Every moment he could get, he stared at Scott, enjoying every moment when the kid smiled, laughed or generally felt happy. Just seeing Scott happy made him happy too.

Logan believed he drank a bit too much as his vision started to blur and the world around him slowed down. He didn't know if it was the alcohol doing it or just the thrill of the evening, but he managed to drone out the music and the shouts of the partygoers and focused on the man he was with. They both had stopped and stared at each other; one puzzled and the other dazed and a bit too drunk from the alcohol. The space between them narrowed until Logan's lips touched Scott's. It wasn't intimate, but the kiss held out longer than he expected. The taste of alcohol swirled around his mouth as Scott stuck his tongue in his mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. What felt like forever, they pulled away, surrounded by dancing partygoers and blaring music.

 _'Fuck.'_ The sudden realization snapped Logan out of his drunken daze. He whirled around and headed outside. The image of Audrey invaded his mind and he could see the look of disappointment and heartbreak on her face. Guilt ate him alive, not just for practically cheating on Audrey, but for abandoning Scott after kissing the man.

Logan staggered his way to his car, slumped over it and tried to steady his breathing and wrap his head around reality. He tried to buzz out the loud music and screaming partygoers around him. Scott came rushing out of the house, a worried look on his face as he approached Logan.

"Wait! James, why did you-"

"That kiss didn't mean anything," he snapped.

Scott froze, startled. "I-" Scott stared at his feet. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," he sneered, causing Scott to flinch at the change of tone. He sighed and looked back to his car.  "I'm not," he began, but left his voice to trail off. They both knew what he meant.

"I know," Scott said in a whisper.

"Let's just..."

"I agree."

Not knowing what else to say, Logan entered his car, Scott entering the passenger's side. Silence fell between the two men, instead of the usual awkward silence, the silence between them was tensed and unsettling.

Logan glanced over to Scott, who stared at his lap and fiddled with his thumbs. Scott looked at him and Logan looked away, shame burning his chest. Scott sighed and stared back down at his lap.

"If you want, I could leave," Scott suggested.

God no.

Logan gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. "You got no place to go, what's the point?"

There was a pause. "Don't want you disgusted with yourself," Scott simply replied.

Disgusted? He sniggered at that, but said nothing to the kid. He pressed his lips to a thin line and continued to stare straight ahead, forcing his thoughts to the back of his head.

* * *

Waking up the next morning was a struggle for him. He had struggled with falling asleep. The events of yesterday clouding his mind and forcing him to deal with the problems that sprung from it. When he came to the living room, Scott wasn't sleeping on the couch instead he was sitting at the table. Scott's eyes stared at the teacup in front of him. A sense of relief floods Logan when he sees Scott, relieved that Scott didn't ran away. He took a seat at the table and sat across from Scott. Scott looked at him warily.

"Thought you left," Logan said.

Scott's eyes fell to the teacup. "Do you want me to?" Scott questioned, his voice low.

Oh god no.

Logan shook his head. "No, I...rather you stay here."

Scott's head snapped up, eyes widened. "Really?" He stared back down at the teacup and Logan cursed himself for not being able to keep the man's eyes on him. "I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to lead you on like that."

"I'm the one that did that," Logan had reassured him, knowing well that he's the one that initiated the kiss.

"We were drunk so..." Scott let his voice trail off, takes a quick glimpse at Logan before adding, "I guess the alcohol is the one to blame."

Logan nodded in agreement. "It just influenced it."

"You're right, the alcohol just influenced me to kiss you more than I already want to."

Logan raised an eyebrow, quite interested at that statement. "Really?"

Scott nodded, a blush crosses his cheeks which Logan found cute. "Yes," Scott replied, this time his eyes are on Logan. "But someone already have the honors of doing that."

Placing both of his hands on Scott's cheek, Logan pulled Scott's face to him, pressing his lips against the other. The man jerk in surprise than slowly succumbed to the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it. There a warm swelling feeling in Logan's chest and he wished to live in this moment forever.

Scott is the first one to pull away, earning a disappointed frown from Logan. He licks his lips and he smiles for a second then it quickly fades away. Scott sighs. "Why?"

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. "Why what?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Not sure if you noticed, Scott, but I like ya."

The blush on Scott's face deepens, turning his cheeks red. "But don't you have..." he trailed off.

"Audrey? Yes, I do."

"What does this mean?"

"I don't know."

"You don't?"

"Scott I like ya, okay? But I can't break up with Audrey, not yet anyway."

Scott was quiet for a second then nodded. "I understand," Scott answered. "You're engaged to her."

Engaged.

The idea of being engaged to someone felt foreign to him. He's been used to being lonely, dating a girl and having no plan to further their relationship. Audrey was different and Logan wanted to try something different, get married, have children instead of wallowing in his past pains.

Letting out he sigh he told Scott, "I'll work this out."

Scott frowned. "James, I don't want you to breakup with her."

"Don't worry, it never was gonna work out," Logan replied. Audrey was different before, but she changed and their passion for one another died.

"How do you know we are going to work out?" Scott questioned.

"I don't, but I want us to."

A smile tugs at Scott's lips. Scott doesn't say anything instead drinking his tea, but the happiness that radiated off of Scott filled Logan with happiness too. He allowed himself to be happy because when night comes, he would have to break a woman's heart.

* * *

 

Logan planned this day carefully. He set up a meeting someplace nice and not too many people. He settled to meet at the park sometime after 5 pm. He told neither Scott or Vera were he was going, he secretly hoped neither of them ask when he comes back. Logan sat at a bench and quietly waited for Audrey to come. In his head, he practiced what to say and how to orchestrate it. _'Be nice'_ he told himself _'Just tell her the truth'._ Though the truth meant Scott and that meant he was in love with a man. Being in love with a woman instead would have make the situation a lot easier to handle. He rubbed his thumb against the silver band and felt a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Hello James," Audrey greeted as she stood in front of him. There was a huge smile on her face and she looked...happy. He knew he was going to regret this.

Logan stood up and turned to her. "Audrey," he began.

Sensing seriousness in his voice, Audrey dropped her smile. She tilted her head with a look of worry crossed on her face. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk," Logan told her.

"About what?"

"About our relationship." _'Don't be ambiguous'_  a voice scold him.

Audrey went quiet. She stared at her feet. "Are you, breaking up with me?" Audrey asked in a small tone, not meeting his eyes.

He swallowed and didn't realized that his throat was dry. "Yes."

Her features darkened and her eyes shifted upwards to him. "Is it someone else?"

He couldn't lie. "Yes."

Her eyebrows furrowed with her lips twisting to a snarl. Logan can smell the anger boiling up in her and the salted tears that threaten to run down her face.  "Who is she? How long have you two been together?" she snapped.

Logan lets out a shaky breath, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible.  "They're not a she," he admitted.

The look of untold hate and disgust strike a chord with him.

"You're fooling around with a man? Is it Scott?" Audrey paused and stared at the ground. She sighed with defeat.  "What am I going to tell my parents?"

"I wasn't good for you, you managed to find someone better," he told her. _'Because you could find someone a hella lot better than me.'_

"But you were the one perfect for me!" She protested.

"Audrey-" he began to reach out for her, but she pushed him away.

"Don't!" she snapped, glaring at him with tears rolling down her cheeks.  "You cheated on me, with, with a man! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Audrey cut him off and shoved an item to his chest. "Here, don't want you to forget your ring."

Logan caught the ring in his hand and watched as Audrey left, not looking at him one more time. He stood there for awhile, sighed then shoved the ring in his pocket and left the park.

* * *

Logan came back to the apartment feeling angry and conflicted. He slammed the door behind and came into the living room seeing Scott sitting on the couch, a book planted in his hand and Scott shooting Logan a surprised look. Scott set the book down then stood up.

"James?" Scott questioned, giving Logan a worried look. He approached Logan slowly, but he pushed the man away.

"Not now," Logan growled, taking a sit on the couch. 

The worried look on his face deepen. "What happened?"

"I said not now!" Logan snapped. 

"You broke up with her, didn't you?" Scott said in quiet tone. 

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"I didn't want you to break up with her. You didn't have to worry about me."

"I didn't do it for ya! I did it for myself!"

Scott sat next to him and look at Logan dead in the eyes with a serious look that crosses his face. "Are you happy?" he asked.

That question took Logan by surprise. He never expected for Scott to ask such a question. Was he happy? He wasn't sure. He was glad that he broke up with Audrey, happy that he lifted the weight off his chest, but disappointed at himself for leaving Audrey upset. Then there was Scott. Breaking up with Audrey lead him to Scott. Scott whom he had met 60 years old ago and fallen in love with. This Scott was the one he had fallen in love with yet again. He would never be sure if their relationship will work, but he could tell there’s a special connection between each other.

Looking at Scott, Logan smiled. "Yes, I am."

Scott smiled back. “Good."

Scott moved closer to Logan, wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist and rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. In return, Logan rested his head against Scott’s. A smile tugs at his lips and he closes his eyes.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why but Audrey reminds me of Mellie Grant from Scandal even though she looks nothing like Mellie.


End file.
